Just Not Me
by MadreLoca
Summary: Murphy hated that he had lied to Conner, but he couldn't, he WOULDN'T tell Conner What had just happened outside. Immediately post BDS1. Features Murphy, Conner, Noah, and Paul. ALMOST slash!


**Title **– Just Not Me

**Summary** – Murphy hated that he had lied to Conner, but he couldn't, he WOULDN'T tell Conner What had just happened outside. Immediately post BDS1. Features Murphy, Conner, Noah, and Paul. ALMOST slash!

**Rating** – T for suggestive themes and typical MacManus language.

**Comments** – I know that in BDS2 looks like Conner and Murphy didn't know that Paul Smecher faked his own death and disappeared to Costa Rica. But what if they did know? Or maybe if just Murphy knew. Used Murphy because he is, in my opinion, the sexier twin. No offense to all you Conner fans, but that just leaves more Murphy for me.

Murphy couldn't sleep. His father's words still resonated in his mind, echoing in the halls of his mind's labyrinth.

_Do you have what it takes to go as far as is needed?_

He was sure that he did. He was sure Conner, who was currently snoring like a bear, did as well. What he wasn't sure of was how to continue from here. How would the three of them go on? Just how far was needed?

He remembered an old quote, though he could not remember from whom of where it came. He closed his eyes and whispered, "A man could kill from sunrise to sunset, and still his work would never be done." Murphy then remembered Rocco's words parked in front of the Sin Bin.

_We could kill everybody!_

Murphy looked at his brother, then at his long-lost father. It was then, eying the sleeping, peaceful faces of his only family in the world that Rocco's words sank in deep. It may very well come to killing everybody. He felt felt his chest and stomach clench as he remembered one more thing Rocco had said to them. Beaten and bloody chained to a chair on a concrete floor, choking out his last words, "Don't ever stop."

They never would. They never could. They probably never should.

"God bless thee, Rocco," he said, reaching for his shot glass and the almost-empty bottle of whiskey. He decided screw the shot glass and swig the rest down right out of the bottle.

After Murphy set the empty bottle down, there was a soft knock at the door. Murphy's head darted towards his father, who stirred momentarily but almost immediately went back to sleeping peacefully. Murphy chuckled and began to rise from his seat.

_Wait_ he thought to himself. You can never be to careful when you have both sides of the line of justice gunning for you. He grabbed the fully loaded silencer-equipped handgun from the table beside him and slowly approached the door. He looked through the peephole and sighed in relief to see a familiar face.

Murphy slowly opened the door, flinching when is creaked on it's hinges. He stepped outside and shut the door just enough so that it was open just a crack. "Conner and Da are sleeping." he explained.

Paul Smecker stood there just grinning like he usually did. That's why Murphy liked him so much. He was type of man that always made you wonder what he was up to.

"So what brings you to our humble hideout at three in the bloody morning?" was Murphy's greeting.

"Well Murphy, I know you like it blunt, so here we go." Paul cleared his throat. "I need to disappear. I'm going to fake my own death."

Murphy's eyes widened, though he wasn't sure why he was surprised. He had known as soon as soon as he had called Paul from the payphone on the way to the Yakavetta house that his new-found ally wouldn't just be able to waltz right back into the office. "Where will you go?"

"Non-extradition country. All the details are worked out. I can't tell you everything. Not that I don't trust you, but-"

"No, I understand." Murphy dug a cigaret and a lighter from his pocket. It took several flicks for the flame to actually stay up long enough to light up. "Fucking cheep ass piece of shit." Conner had stolen his zippo lighter to take it apart. With neither of them being able to figure out how to put it back together, Murphy was left with a fifty cent plastic junker. When he finally got his cigaret lit, he took a deep drag and said, "You know, I'm not sure you should have told me anything."

Paul nodded. "I had doubts, too. But really I just wanted to tell _you_. You don't have to tell Conner."

Murphy nodded in reply and took another drag of his cigaret. Paul's actions struck him as odd, but when didn't Paul's actions strike one as odd? Murphy decided just to go along with it.

"Hay, Murphy," Paul changed the subject, "I saw what you guys did in the courtroom."

"You liked it, eh?"

"Liked it, hell I loved it! That speech was epic and absolutely terrifying. The actual killing made me a little sick at first, but it was all brilliant. That shit turns me on!"

Murphy laughed.

Paul smiled awkwardly and said, "Well, I guess I should probably go."

"See Ya." Murphy wasn't one for the whole goodbye thing, so he didn't let on that he would miss that strange little FBI agent.

Paul began to walk away, but then stopped and turned back to Murphy. "Ya know, um..." he hesitated and cleared his throat again, "that stuff I said about...well, you turning me on? I, uh, wasn't joking."

Murphy froze. He dropped his half-smoked cigaret and stomped it out, looking at Paul with an expression that crossed 'holly shit" and "what the fuck." He wasn't sure what to say or do or feel. All that he could manage was "I, y...wha...hu?"

It was something that he was always terrified to tell Conner (and therefore never had) that he had once, just once, wondered what it would be like with a man. He wondered it again as Paul stepped closer and closer to him until their bodies were almost touching. Murphy was confused, curious, and terrified.

"Murphy," Paul whispered. Very gently. Paul's lips brushed against Murphy's, then pressed a little harder.

Murphy's mind swam. What was he doing? What was he thinking? How was this happening? Was it the night, was it the alcohol, was it the heightened emotion of that entire month?

What did this make him, Murphy wondered. Was he gay now? Did letting Paul kiss him, did closing his eyes, did leaning into Paul's kiss, did actively kissing him, did moaning ever so slightly as Paul bit his lip, did leaning back as Paul pinned him against the wall, did making out, tongue and all, with a man in front of the motel room where his father and brother were sleeping make him gay?

No.

Murphy snapped his eyes back open, put his hands on Paul's shoulders and pushed himself and Paul apart. "No! He gasped and drew in several deep breaths. "No, Paul. Nothing against you, that...that's just not me. I'm not...I-"

Paul interrupted Murphy's stammering. "I understand. I respect you.

Paul looked into Murphy's eyes. Murphy felt as if Paul were looking into his mind, watching him sort out his confusion.

For the third time Paul again cleared his throat. "We may never see each other again." Paul sighed. "You know, Murphy, ever since I first saw you Conner limp into the police station, I-"

"Paul," Murphy interrupted, "no more."

"Right, um. Yeah," Paul muttered to himself as he walked away with out another word.

Murphy stayed outside long enough to smoke another cigaret and tried to pull himself together. And figure out what just happened, as well as how and why it happened. He had no feelings for Paul in that sense.

It was the night. It was the alcohol. It was the heightened emotions of the entire month.

Murphy slipped his lighter back into his pocket and traded it for his rosary. He clutched it in his hand and bowed his head in prayer. When finished he put the rosary around his neck. "Spiritus Sancti," he muttered, shaking his head.

The door creaked again as Murphy re-entered the room. To his relief, Conner and Da were still fast asleep. Murphy figured this was a good idea and got comfortable in the reclining chair.

The spring of the footrest emerging roused Conner. "Hay, Murph," Conner said groggily. "I thought I heard you go outside. Everything alright?"

"Sure," Murphy lied, "Just needed some fresh air. Too stuffy in here."

Conner yawned and re-adjusted himself on the couch. He was soon sleeping and snoring again.

Murphy hated that he had lied to Conner, but he couldn't, he _wouldn't_ tell Conner What had just happened outside.

Not ever.

Not any of it.


End file.
